


We're so far in time, to be all apart

by iamtheleftbrain



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Crying, Cussing, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Movie Reference, Not Canon Compliant, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 07:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheleftbrain/pseuds/iamtheleftbrain
Summary: Richie wonders what would happen if he knocked on Eddie's hotel door and confessed his love





	We're so far in time, to be all apart

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my docs and edited it and now you all are seeing it so there ya go

A smile is not an exposed nerve. It's the muscle that ensures the sensitive part of your emotions stay hidden and safe. The protective coating. Silver armor that guards you from the sharp swords of negativity.

Richie Tozier wasn't exactly strong physically and mentally, but his smile was the big, tough guy outside of mob hangouts whose name is an oxymoron for his appearance.

He had a smile as if he was carefree. It showed his teeth and he occasionally poked his tongue out. His smile protected thousands of strained, fragile, grotesque nerves from outside forces. The nerves jumbled around like little crawling insects in a cave.

A vast hole of empty, unsavory jokes. Mentions of women that echoed the cavernous walls. Broken relationships with no feelings behind them. A promise to someone else that was more of a mask to him. Unsatisfying sexual encounters and ashamed thoughts.

A secret is hidden miles within the cave, buried under beautiful geodes and the sloppy mud of amnesia. 

Thirty years of erosion and uncensored thoughts moving around was starting to uncover this little squashed insect of fear and self hatred. 

When on stage, his smile is a paper thin line- waiting to be ripped in half at any second. Every time the butt of the joke is his 'girlfriend' or women that he's slept with, he has no choice but to laugh and smile with the audience. He tries his best to seem enthralled and in tune with "his" own jokes, but his smile is a facade, and the man in the front row is handsome.

He forgot what it's like to genuinely smile and laugh and feel loved. To giggle childishly and unabashedly. To feel unafraid of the secret insect.

It was crawling it's way out it's hole and rushing for the exit. It was coming on fast.

He was back in Derry.

All his childhood friends could bring out the best and worst of him. 

He made his friends laugh. He'd lighten any situation. They depended on him to crack the first joke.

However, he talked too much and too fast. He made inappropriate jokes at the wrong times. He always had to be the most annoying person in the room. 

Richie demanded attention on this flaw, so you'd focus on that and not the insect beginning to writhe its way out of the cave. It worked for the most part. 

The insect was relentless, ruthless, it was growing bigger every second it spent out of its grave. Its spindly, invasive antennas were poking out between his lips. It controlled his eyes, controlled his words, his movements. The worst parts were his thoughts.

It was after the fight. 

Richie has seen it. The deadlights, Eddie, the claw, the blood, "Richie...". He saw it and he changed it. 

He pushed Eddie away and dodged the sharp spider-clown claw himself.

Richie clung onto Eddie as they all stood on the street, watching the haunted house fall into the Earth and take their nightmares with them. Eddie held onto Richie just as intense. 

They wouldn't leave each other's side until everyone else had gone.

Richie knew It dying wouldn't take away the homophobia, coming out, the expectations, or the memories. It wouldn't take away the possibility of Eddie finding out Richie's true feelings, and abandoning him forever. Leaving him alone with just hatred for himself and his sexuality.

Perhaps, after all this time, it was worth it. Maybe with everything that happened this summer, he'd be okay with himself when he went back to LA.

Pennywise was dead. He'd lie in the bottom of that cave for eternity as his body never truly decomposed.

Eddie would've been right down there with him. Cold, alone. Dead. Rotting. 

As Richie was lying in the humid, dark room alone, his blood pumping away in his ear. The insect skittered around in loops. 

He didn't mean to think about him, Eddie.

He hadn't had an invasive thought of this caliber since he was a teenager. He let the thoughts run rapid for the first time in almost 3 decades.

The kind of private, juvenile thoughts that made you blush as though someone had overheard.

He wanted to go to Eddie. To kiss him. Press his lips to Eddie's mouth, ears, neck, cheek, shoulders, chest… He wanted their hands on each other. His hand on Eddie's waist and Eddie's hands anywhere on Richie. He didn't care. 

He wanted to be alone with him in bed. To hear unorthodox sounds. Touch his body that's coated in sweat. 

Richie's had about 1 sex partner in his 41 years, and their experience would never be considered a revelation. 

He could, confidently, think, now, that it was because she had the body anatomy he never enjoyed. It didn't go past her removing her bra. Richie's drunken sadness and horniess (that wasn't meant for her, but the male bartender) made him break down. He apologized to her. She left. He blocked her number and pretended she didn't exist when asked by the press.

Needless to say, he was curious what it was like to enjoy being touched in such a manner. By hands he enjoyed.

He felt like a teen again. Indulging in his libido.

Genuinely smiling at the fantasy he had cooked up in his head. (Eddie calling him names, Richie kissing him so confidently that it swooned Eddie right on the spot, they confess their love for each other, have great sex, and spoon afterwards. He's always wanted to be spooned by someone.)

There's no light in his hotel room. No sound. No visual or audible stimulation and Richie was feeling genuinely excited. Downright giddy. 

He started wondering what would happen if he  _ did _ knock on Eddie's door. If he invited himself inside. If he confessed to him that he's gay and in love with him, kissed his mouth, his jaw, neck, pulled off his shirt, tugged on his pants….

He pulled off the covers and power-walked outside of his room and the few feet to Eddie's room.

A thin line of light was below the door. He knocked.

Footstep, footstep, footstep. 

Eddie, obviously up after his bedtime, showed his face in the crack of the door. 

"What?" Eddie asked. His voice was a soft whisper. 

Richie avoided eye contact. Maybe this was a bad idea. "Can I come in?" The insect had a mind of its own, though. It had waited long enough.

"Sure. Whatever. I'm about to go to sleep, though." 

"Are you up past your bedtime? Awe, is mommy gonna get mad at lil Eddie Spaghetti?" Richie stuck out his lower lip dramatically. 

"Bye." Eddie closed the door.

Richie knocked again. Man, he was annoying. "Dude, I was kidding! Let me in." Silence. "I, uh, I have something to tell you." He knew it would cause immediate anxiety. Eddie groaned cartoonishly from inside.

"It's unlocked. Just come in," he said, "asshole." 

Eddie was sitting up in the century old bed. A blanket, that he brought from home, on his lap. He looked enervate and ditzy. Toothpaste was on the side of his mouth. Richie didn't tell him. 

He was wearing a stark white shirt and plaid boxers. Bags under his eyes and his usual brushed hair was tangled.

"What is it? I'm not in the mood for one of your jokes. So, just leave if-."

Richie started to cry. He had no idea why. He was jumpscared by his own dejected yelp. 

Eddie watched him confused, dumbfounded, befuddled. He's seen Richie cry four times their entire friendship. Usually there was warning. A sniffle. Red cheeks. Turning his face away. 

This was an outburst. A ball of raw, unprepossessing emotion finally was struck out of the stadium in Richie's mind.

"Do- do you want a hug?" Eddie suggested.

Richie nodded, despite himself. He wrapped himself around Eddie. He white knuckled Eddie's shirt in his hands while he cried violently into his neck.

Eddie smelled like a store that only sells mint gum and bleach.

They stood in the poorly lit hotel room for 10 minutes, hugging. Eddie occasionally shushed Richie and told him to let it all out. Richie chuckled at his poor excuse of comfort.

He made an effort to calm himself down quicker. If he hadn't, he'd be there all night. Letting Eddie be his pillow in another one of his bad nights. 

He was a soft place to land through the jagged edges of his mind.

His breathing quieted and his cries turned to small whimpers. Eddie patted his back in reassurance. "You alright, dude?" His arms were still around him.

"Yeah. Sorry." Richie wiped snot on Eddie's shirt that would piss him off later.

Eddie untangled their mess of a hug. "Sit down. I'll get you some water." 

Richie sat. Eddie handed him a reusable water bottle. Richie drank all of it. 

"You need to drink more water," Eddie said.

"Okay,  _ mom _ ." 

"Fuck you, bitch."

Richie made a face that suggested a character was coming on. "Duck you, bithtch!" He said, in a Donald Duck impression. Eddie laughed. He sat next to Richie and rested his head on his shoulder. 

The insect wanted out. 

Richie got more water from the bathroom sink after a brief moment of panic from the touching.

"I can't believe we killed It," Eddie said, after a while. 

"I fuckin hope we did. I don't want to come back here when I'm fuckin' seventy trying to kill a creepy ass clown who can't dance." He stood in the bathroom doorway.

Eddie laughed.

"I think I'm going to divorce my wife."

Richie forgot about her. It put a damper on his plans. He continued to stand awkwardly.

"Uh, really? How are you gonna find someone fatter  _ and  _ has munchausen syndrome by proxy?" 

"Dude."

"I'm just asking." 

"Shut up," Eddie watched the floor, "I don't feel like I need to be scared of sickness and disease my whole life. My mother indulged it my entire childhood, then I found a woman to play the role of my mother. I wasted my entire life being scared. We shouldn't have to be scared anymore. Pennywise is gone. We're grown up. We need to face our fears." 

This is it. The insect was coming out one way or another. There's no hiding it. The bug was stronger than any willpower Richie might have had. Being gay isn't shameful. It isn't a bad thing. Richie's gay. He likes men. He's in love with his best friend.  _ There's nothing wrong with me,  _ He repeated in his head.

"Eddie," Richie started. 

"Yeah?"

"...You have toothpaste on your mouth." 

Eddie wiped on his face. He missed. Missed again. Again. 

"Jesus fuckin Christ, let me do it." Richie walked towards him, leaned down, which was unnecessary, and swiped his thumb across the corner of Eddie's lip. It took a couple passes for it to fully disappear. 

Eddie's eyes were half closed, and they caught the golden light from the bedside lamp cosmically. His lashes framed them perfectly. Purple bags hung. He was tired. Eddie was looking at him with such content- he might kiss him right now and run out of the room. 

Richie should let him sleep.

"Do you want me to leave?" Richie whispered. He was still leaning down. Their faces were so close.

"No. I want you to stay."

"I think you need sleep. You've been through a lot. You haven't slept in days. Go to sleep, man." 

Eddie's ears fired up. "I don't want to sleep alone." 

"Oh," Richie said, "I can sleep with you. I mean, not sleep  _ with _ you, but like sleep with you… Yeah."

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Leave the light on." Eddie climbed under the covers and made room for Richie.

It was a twin sized mattress.

Richie situated himself under the blankets. He didn't want to touch Eddie too much, but it was hard not to. Eddie's shirt had risen up and Richie's forearm was brushing against his stomach. It was exactly like he imagined. Soft. Sweaty. 

This isn't in his plan. It was stupid of him to think anything would go anywhere after what they've been through today. They needed sleep. Then tomorrow they can all move back to their respective cities and forget again. 

Eddie grabbed his hand and said something. 

Richie was staring at the ceiling like God was going to show up and strike him down right there.

They were holding hands and Richie couldn't even process anything going on. Not Eddie sitting up, not Eddie's face closing in, not his voice. Nothing made sense until their lips were touching. 

Richie's hands projectiled their way up to Eddie's cheeks. He had stubble that was slightly more than a five o'clock shadow. His face was clean and smelled like unscented lotion. His mouth tasted of toothbrush and bubblegum flavored mouthwash. The kiss was everything Richie had hoped for.

The kiss gradually moved to something more intense. They both sat up. The angle of the kiss got complicated. Eddie climbed onto Richie's lap. It almost drove him straight to insanity. A girl had done this to him before, but it didn't have the same  _ effect _ as this experience. 

The little insect was going batshit. 

Eddie, as Richie was beginning to learn, was in charge in the bedroom. He did things first and wasn't afraid to. He did what he liked because he knew the other participate would like it, too. 

Just when Richie's lips were getting used to the sensation of foreign lips, they broke apart. 

Richie couldn't say he was disappointed because his shirt was pulled off of him in hast. 

A neat fusillade of kisses ran up and down his neck.

Richie wasn't sure what to do with his hands. 

From knowledge on his past relationships, he put his hands up Eddie's shirt and was very pleased on what he didn't find.

Eddie was sweaty and sticky. But he was soft and he must have shaved his chest hair. His stomach was more of a tummy. Richie loved every inch of his body. He touched his semi-supple sides and back. 

As Eddie continued to kiss his neck, Richie made every attempt to kiss his cheek, ear, and head. He missed a couple of times, but now that this was happening he never wanted to take his lips off of him. 

Richie was beginning to not be able to hold in his moans.

He was wondering why this was happening in the first place.

Eddie was starting to do things with his hips. 

Despite wanting this, he pushed Eddie away a bit. He looked either red from embarrassment or lack of air. 

"I'm in love with you." Richie took off the protective coating. Letting Eddie see his exposed nerves. He trusted him, he wouldn't hurt him. 

His shirt was off. His hairy chest was exposed and being felt up by the  _ man  _ in his lap. The same man who has been the subject of his childish thoughts, teenage fantasies, and adult angst. 

Richie's thighs were being hugged by Eddie's semi-bare one's. He didn't want to look down at their laps in fear of what he might find.

"I know." Eddie chuckled and patted Richie's chest.

"Was that a Star Wars reference or are you just being an asshole?" 

Eddie kissed him again. It was sweet and it made Richie picture the color pink. They were giggling into each other's mouths as Eddie pushed Richie's back against the mattress.

He followed Eddie's mouth whenever he'd try to break away. 

Once he finally did, they both got incredibly hysterical. With Richie laying down, having to look up at Eddie's red, thin, healthy face. 

Richie wanted him to keep laughing. Especially while on his lap. He conjured up his best Chewbacca impression. 

He made distorted sounds that could be up to interpretation on what he truly said, but it was supposed to be: "I love you!"

Eddie convulsed with laughter. He pretended to slap Richie. "Snap out of it!" 

They both broke down in a fit of laughs and sheepish giggles. They shooshed each other through strained breaths. 

Eddie started to kiss Richie's face, neck, chest, and arms again. Richie continued giggling like a child. 

"Wait, wait, wait! I have another one!" Richie said.

Eddie kissed him on the mouth quickly. "What?"

Richie lightens his voice and puts a nasal to it. "I love you, Molly, I'll always love you." 

Eddie grabbed Richie's face and kissed him again. "Did you just mix Jar Jar Binks with the fucking movie  _ Ditto _ ?"

Richie grabbed Eddie's hands. "That's not your line, asshole." He kissed his knuckles. Which was daring for him.

"Ditto, fuckass." Eddie removed his own shirt. He was waiting for Richie to, but it was clear he was afraid to move things along. 

They continued with another laughing fit that lasted a couple of side-aching minutes.

"You're fucking hot, Eds." Richie allowed himself to say. "I've been in love with you since we were fucking 13, and I can't believe I'm just now kissing you." 

Eddie's hands were starting to caress the lower part of Richie's stomach. He felt as if he was about to explode. 

"I love you, too, Dick." 

"What did I do?"

"Dick. Richard. Ya' know?"

"What the fuck? Ew. Don't call me that. It makes it sound like I'm a 70 year old politician who has a secret addiction to coke and young men." 

"Okay, but you're still a dick." 

Eddie's fingers began to squirm their way into Richie's pajama bottoms. Which he was a little embarrassed about at the moment. 

"Why are you doing this all of a sudden?" Richie's hands were on Eddie's hips.

"I've been wanting to since we were 15."

"And?" Richie asked.

"We almost died, asshole. Excuse me for wanting to do things I've always wanted to do." 

"A fuck-it list? Who else is on it?" 

Eddie started to pull the Hello Kitty pants down. "Your mom." He had to maneuver his body to get them completely off.

Richie breathed in sharply. "Wait. 15? Really?" 

Eddie hummed a yes. He kissed Richie's chest. They were both thoroughly enjoying the kissing aspect of this entire encounter. 

"You never noticed I had a crush on you as a kid?"

"No."

"You're an oblivious fucking idiot."

"That's fair."

"I always invited you to play arcade games with me, and got upset when you played with the others. I invited you over all the time, I followed you like a little puppy, and I got  _ on top  _ of you to read comics together. You didn't notice that you were the only one allowed to touch me? I thought I was being obvious." Eddie said. He was talking fast and doing hand gestures in front of Richie's face.

"I was too busy trying not to let you find out about me liking you, dipshit!" 

"You fucking sucked at that, too!"

This time Richie kissed Eddie. He sat up and grabbed the back of Eddie's head for extra support and pizzazz. His hair was freshly washed and smelled like Head and Shoulders. 

Richie's insect was starting to like life outside of its cave. It has so much more room to grow and love. It felt good being exposed to the elements. Because now Richie wasn't fighting tooth and nail for it to stay buried. He was kissing the boy he pinned over for years. The boy he'd die for. The boy that took a knife to the cheek, ripped it out, and stabbed his offender with it. Who threw a spear at an insane, clown spider that had haunted them all their lives in order to save Richie.

Eddie was strong, brave, handsome, and the love of Richie's life.

He made Richie's cave of darkness, loneliness, and confusion be filled with vivid, bright colors. Images of them smiling at each other, holding hands, and kissing. 

He loved the man who was unironically himself and loved going against expectations.

"I love you." Richie said into his mouth.

Eddie hummed which could be heard as 'beep, beep, Richie'. He turned off the gold and green bedside lamp

**Author's Note:**

> Eddie Kaspbrak is Bisexual but also Homophobic


End file.
